


Unexpected Consequences (the original)

by startabby



Series: The Big Short Stories [4]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Consequences, Gen, HP: EWE, Obscurial Harry Potter, Post-Battle of Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 11:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12253107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startabby/pseuds/startabby
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry has a necessary confrontationThe Big Short Challenge Prompt: Harry Potter





	Unexpected Consequences (the original)

**Author's Note:**

> This was the original story that I wrote given the idea of Harry as an Obscurial, before I ended up with the larger scale series of Obscure Guardian.   
> It was written for the Variations on a Character section of the Big Short Challenge on Rough Trade (http://www.roughtrade.org/)'s forum, which called for a 1000-2000 word story given a character prompt.

* * *

“Harry,” the sound of his name being called interrupted Harry Potter’s attempt to process what had just happened.

A second call came, closely followed by a body slamming into his side to encircle him in a tight embrace.

“Hermione,” he finally exclaimed when he realized just who owned the voice and the body wrapped around him.

“You’re alive!” Her words, muffled by the fact that she had buried her face in his chest, were filled with relief and joy.

“Mione, calm down,” Harry huffed as he pried himself loose from her arms.

“Well?” Hermione demanded as she acquiesced to his efforts.

With a sigh, Harry explained. “The curse, Hermione, it killed the Horcrux instead of me.”

Holding in a sob, Hermione nodded. “Then that theory was correct. And the other one?”

“I think so. I can already feel it pushing at my shields.”

“Oh, Harry.”

“It’s okay, Mione, we have a plan, remember.”

“Right,” Hermione visibly shook herself out of the funk that she’d started falling into and continued. “What do you need from me?”

“Let everyone know what’s going on?”

“What are you going to do?”

“I need to see everyone, plus I want one final look around the old castle, it’s the closest place I have ever had to a home, you know. Then, I need to confront him, you know.”

“I do know. Good luck,” Hermione started to walk away, and then turned back before she got too far. “I’ll meet you outside at dawn.”

With that, the two friends separated. As was expected of the heroes of the war, they made the rounds checking on the various survivors of the Battle of Hogwarts and grieving with those who had lost a loved one. Harry also had to accept the accolades of everyone who saw him take down Voldemort and end the battle. He tried to emphasize that it was a team effort, pointing to such examples as Neville’s takedown of Nagini but most people were determined to set him on a pedestal.

Eventually, Harry managed to extract himself from fans and friends alike and made his way through the castle. Reaching the griffin statue that guarded the entrance to the Headmaster’s chambers, he greeted it like an old friend.

“Hey, old boy, I’m afraid I don’t know the password, but I need a word with one of your residents.”

With a simple nod, the statue moved aside to let him pass. While Snape had removed many of Dumbledore’s most ostentatious trinkets from the chambers, it still looked much the same as it had during the former Headmaster’s tenure.

Harry looked up at the walls of murmuring portraits. “The battle’s over. You all should go forth and discover. You won’t learn anything staying hidden in here.”

Having shooed off most of the eavesdroppers, Harry then levitated one of the armchairs from the corner of the office over to a more comfortable spot in front of the portrait of Headmaster Dumbledore.

Taking a seat, he cast ‘muffliato’, so none of the remaining portraits could listen in on the conversation.

“It’s over, Professor. Voldemort is truly dead this time. We destroyed all of his Horcruxes. In the end, he got himself killed through his own hubris.”

The painted face of the old coot beamed and his eyes twinkled with joy as he looked down on the boy who he had guided to this point.

“I am so proud of you, my boy; you’ve surpassed my wildest expectations.”

“Did I, Professor? I’m glad. I guess the risks you took in my childhood were worth it.” The sarcasm in Harry’s voice was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Dumbledore’s portrait frowned. This was not how he expected the conversation to go.

“Risks? My dear boy, I am not sure what you are referring to…”

Harry interrupted. “Why the Dursleys, of course. I mean, you had to have realized the potential that you set up when you left me there. I must say that the Wizarding World really got lucky. The odds were not in their favor for me to turn out as I did.”

“What…”

“I’m not finished yet. I have just three words for you: ‘Magic-Hating Muggles.’ Let’s look at the facts shall we. You force a family of muggles who hate anything that deviates from the perfectly mundane to take in their traumatized, magically powerful nephew. It should be a no brainer that they are going to react poorly, and, in the words of my uncle, ‘try to beat the freakishness out of him.’ Given that kind of childhood there were five states for the boy that you invited to Hogwarts to have been in when he arrived.”

“One, the Dursleys could have accidentally killed or permanently injured me during years that they had charge of me with no real supervision. To be honest, that came far too close to happening several times in my childhood.”

“Two, the Dursleys could have sent me away rather than hiding me within their home. Quite frankly I’m still shocked that they never actually did,” Harry shuddered. “I admit, that was a nightmare that Uncle Vernon liked to threaten me with when I was young. I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t do something to keep such an event from happening.”

“Three, I could have ended up just like Tom Riddle, channeling the abuse and hatred of others into my own hatred. Watching the pensieve memories last year really highlighted how similar my background is to Voldemort’s thanks to your actions.”

“Four, I could manage to survive the abuse and still recognize that my relatives were bad people and that they were not representative of the general muggle population. Instead, I could develop a moral code and a desire to help others. My vague memories of the time before the Dursleys and the kindness of a few random strangers in my childhood were enough to keep the worst from taking place. No thanks to you, I managed to find a support network here in the Wizarding World through my friends.”

“But it is the fifth possibility that should matter most to you personally Albus Dumbledore. One that would never have occurred to me until Hermione and I read the unauthorized biography that Rita Skeeter published recently.”

Harry paused for a moment as he eyed Dumbledore’s portrait without making direct eye contact.

“Tell me, Albus, as you should apparently know this quite well. What happens to a wizarding child who tries too hard to hide their magical abilities? Who is punished for doing anything ‘freakish’ to the point that they lock down their magical core until it bursts?”

Harry could see the realization appear on Dumbledore’s face as it went paler than normal and the twinkle completely vanished. Pleased that his message was penetrating the old goat’s thick head, he continued with his story.

“See, when I was reading in Rita Skeeter’s charming biography about what happened to your sister I ran across an unfamiliar term. Obscurus. Naturally, I asked my best friend, Hermione what it meant. Being the cute know-it-all that she is, Hermione helped me hunt down a definition. The description I found struck a disturbingly familiar chord, so we did some more digging.”

“We ended up meeting an old protégé of yours while we were on the hunt for the last few Horcruxes. He filled in some more details about the condition. It turned out, after his experiences as a young man he’d developed a spell to test for Obscurials and their current status.”

 Harry’s eyes were bleak as he continued. “Turns out, I am an Obscurial. The only reason I never manifested was that the Obscurus was kept busy.”

He stared off at nothing in particular. “Doing what, you might ask? That turned out to be surprisingly easy to determine. The Obscurus is what has held Tom’s little Horcrux at bay, keeping it from infiltrating my mind. Now that the Horcrux is gone, it’s only a matter of time.”

Harry winced for a moment in pain even as his form became translucent and a dark cloud started to form before he returned to his original condition. He breathed heavily as he recovered, and then went on with his tale.

“There’s never been an Obscurial quite like me before, so we’re not sure what happens next. However, no one has ever found a cure, only a level of temporary control followed by disaster. Newt and Tina arranged a safe house for me at one of the most isolated areas that they know: the center of an African Nundu Preserve. I will be staying there in isolation from any other witches or wizards, until I either gain true control over my Obscurus or die in the attempt. My portkey leaves at dawn.”

For the first time since he cast the ‘muffliato’, Harry looked Dumbledore square in the eye. “So tell me, Headmaster, was it really worth it? Was my life worth your need to control the prophecy child?”

 Without waiting for a response, Harry got up from the chair where he sat, cancelled the charm, and walked out of the office, closing the door behind him as he went.

Behind him, the portrait of Dumbledore sat, speechless.


End file.
